Jul 08, 2006 21:36
Its summer, but it feels like a pensive fall this week.
Raining, perfect temperature outside and i perch my right leg on the open passenger window and read foucault for 3 hours in a park while at work.
Now home, i listen to arab strap.
For all the death of my patients, the 2 year old who drowned last week, i am content at work. There is real terror in being handed a childs corpse and given that look of " okay big city medic, fix this!"
And i couldnt, but thats okay. Im sure of it.
For all the frustration with laziness and dirty households, i wash dishes with a secret smile.
There are things out of my control. Its the ones in my control that facinate me. I think of loving friendship, of what 'alone' means. I am my own worst enemy, and the revolution begins inside.
Im a fucking bastard, and insecure, and pensive and egotistically opionionated.
NAMING BEASTS, makes them weaker.
I am not important, and i will not save the earth, i will not make people understand anything important,
but my love will be strong, and my silence will grow.